Rains

Since childhood, anger fueled me.

Frustration, disgust, and raw defiance of my circumstances - those were my motivating influences.

I'm not angry anymore.

As the rage subsided, I'd forgotten to replace my fuel; I've been lacking the urge to improve, to grow, and to make.

And then I had a dream.

Kayaking down a river with two guides, I was far out of my comfort zone. The journey was long, and the obstacles were treacherous.

My gear was bound to my kayak, though not properly secured. I lagged behind, fumbling with knots, while navigating the waters. The guides never let too much distance get between us though.

Then the rains came.

Heavy, fat, and fast falling droplets splashed on my face with a stinging. It was a hot rain. A muggy feeling of ubiquitous oppression from above couldn't be avoided.

We took shelter with the mud-people on the river banks. "We'll stay here just so long as it rains", we said.

The rains poured.

Weeks passed, and the rains still came. Months passed, and the mud-people catered to us kindly. I was beginning to lose memory of my purpose. I had lost sight of my goal.

Why am I here? Why have I stopped?

The rains will never end in this place. I can't be stuck for their sake. I must push forward despite the biting and stinging on my face. Difficulties will only increase from here. I can not allow myself to be halted half way.

We pushed on.

And so, now, do I.